


The Fates of Laundry Are Helpful, Sometimes

by Madiedoodle



Series: Domestic Zimbits [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Sharing Clothes, a bit of initial pining, theyre both dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7321804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madiedoodle/pseuds/Madiedoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Bitty wanted was to borrow a shirt so he could go do his laundry. He didn't mean for it to become a Thing™.</p><p>In which they share clothes, and it works out quite nicely for everyone. Another sort of crackish fic, I just couldn't resist the combo of size difference and clothes sharing, its too perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fates of Laundry Are Helpful, Sometimes

It started on accident. Well, less of an accident and more of a convenience. Finals had taken a lot out of Bitty, and laundry day just hadn’t happened. So he was left with three clean pairs of underwear, one clean sock, his favorite red shorts, and absolutely zero shirts. It was quite the conundrum. He thought of just putting on a dirty shirt, but he shuddered at the thought of what his mama would say to that. He huffed, looking around the room before finally giving up the search and heading out of his room. It was an awkward few moments, standing there in the hallway of the Haus, debating who he should ask for a shirt. 

And then Jack’s door was open, and Jack seemed to startle when he caught sight of Bitty lurking in the hallway. The words were out of Bitty’s mouth before he could truly think of why it was a BAD IDEA™. “Could I borrow a shirt? Mine are all dirty.” He said. Nevermind the size difference, the fact that he would be better off asking Chowder rather than Jack “My Shoulders Could Fit Three Moose On Them And Still Have Room” Zimmermann. Nevermind that Bitty could probably fit three of himself in one of Jack Zimmermann’s shirts. Nevermind the amount of times Bitty has thought the words “That shirt looks good on you but it would look even better on my floor”, which he completely blames Shitty for. But it was too late, the words had come out of his mouth, there was no escape. 

“Oh, ummm, sure, yeah.” Jack said, confusion crossing his face before he disappeared into his room. Bitty could hear him riffling around for a moment before he returned with Samwell Hockey shirt, nicely folded and gingerly handed to Bitty. “It’ll probably be to big, but it’s the smallest shirt I have.” Bitty knew this shirt all too well, and it was indeed too small for Jack, the kind of too small that showed off his broad shoulders and revealed just the barest hint of skin whenever Jack reached up to grab something. It was Bitty’s favorite and least favorite of Jack’s shirts because of this. 

“Thank you, I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” Bitty said, slipping on the shirt and darting into his room as quickly as possible to escape his embarrassment. He missed the coloring of Jack’s cheeks, first at the sight of Bitty shirtless and standing in the hallway, and then at the sight of Bitty practically drowning in his shirt, as it hung past his shorts and sleeves past his hands. As Bitty disappeared down the hallway he missed how Jack’s eyes followed him, and how Jack had to steady himself on the door frame to keep from falling over. 

 

****

 

The second time was also an accident, a mishap of laundry as clothes within the Haus got switched around. Heck, it may have been an act of divine providence, or maybe Shitty just couldn’t help himself. The world may never know. It just so happened that everyone on the team happened to own the same shirt, Samwell Hockey, and it just so happened that while folding laundry, these shirts could sometimes get mixed up. It had happened to Ransom and Holster on occasion, but they ended up wearing eachothers clothes often enough that it didn’t really matter all that much. 

But when Jack walked into the kitchen for pre-game breakfast, Samwell shirt so tight it looked like it was going to rip at the seams of his shoulders and revealing most of his stomach, a tight long sleeve crop top out of Bitty’s dreams. And there stood Bitty, making team breakfast in Jack’s shirt, sleeves rolled up and hem of the shirt still covering Bitty’s shorts just as it had when Jack had lent him the shirt weeks ago. 

“I thought my shirt had shrunk. It seems our laundry got mixed up.” Jack said, and Bitty turned around, looking him up and down and turning an endearing shade of pink.

“I figured, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” Bitty said, and Jack nodded, accepting this easily. Even though it was a straight up lie and Bitty just loved how Jack’s shirts smelled and how big they were on him, but he wasn’t about to admit that to anybody, let alone Jack. He was about to grudgingly suggest that they switch shirts, when the entirety of the Samwell Hockey team entered the kitchen. The tradition of team breakfast was time honored, it was sacred. Wearing their Samwell Hockey shirts was part of the luck, as they crowded around the table for breakfast. No one mentioned anything, just taking their seats at the table and chatting happily. Only Shitty acknowledged their state of dress, covertly winking at Bitty and also raising an eyebrow at Jack.

Bitty couldn’t help but blush, secretly happy that the team had shown up before they could switch shirts. The way the shirt hugged Jack’s shoulders, followed every curve of his muscles. The glimpse of stomach. Sure Bitty had seen Jack shirtless before, around the Haus or in the locker room, but it certainly wasn’t the same. It was his shirt that Jack was wearing, even if by accident, and that somehow made Jack all the more inticing. But Bitty continued to go about his business, ignoring how Jack looked in the too small shirt, ignoring how ridiculous he probably looked in Jack’s shirt, ignoring how the rest of the team began to switch shirts as if it was now going to become a new part of the tradition, as Dex and Nursey bickered over who got Chowder’s shirt until they realized that Chowder had already switched shirts with Shitty, forcing Dex and Nursey to switch shirts as Ransom and Holster switched with eachother. Bitty only shook his head and went about his day, missing the way Jack was watching him work about the kitchen, how the hem of the shirt completely covered his shorts and how the shoulders of the shirt were almost falling off of him, drooping to one side or another in a way that Jack couldn’t help but watch. 

 

****

The third time was no accident. Jack knew that his shirts had been going missing every time he would see Eric, whether it be at the Haus or in Jack’s apartment. It started with one of his Samwell shirts, gone from his overnight bag. Then a flannel or two here and there, and Jack knew exactly where they were going. He had tried to tease Bitty over it once or twice, but Bitty was unashamed of his shirt thievery, and Jack was more pleased than anything. The only thing he liked more than Bitty with no clothes was Bitty wearing Jack’s clothes(and Bitty in heels, but that’s a separate story entirely). 

Coming home to find Bitty in the kitchen, wearing nothing but Jack’s flannel and making lunch for the two of them was something that Jack treasured. The sight of Bitty, the thought and care that Bitty put into everything, the fact that he and Bitty could have this. Bitty could have all of Jack’s shirts if he wanted, Bitty could have anything he wanted. And he wanted Jack, he wanted to sit with Jack on the couch and discuss how practice went or how the game went or how life at Samwell was going. Wanted to hear all about the antics of the Falconers, talk about the upcoming Samwell graduations or the latest family drama as his mom tried to prevent the Great Cookie War of 2010 to repeat itself.  
If every once in a while Jack would buy a new shirt because he thought it would look good hanging off of Bitty’s shoulders, well then that was an added bonus. If every once in a while one of Bitty’s shirts would make their way into Jack’s pile of t-shirts when Bitty was doing the laundry, it was just a fortunate coincidence. 

And with the way Bitty was looking at him right then, it was a very fortunate coincidence indeed.


End file.
